The Light That Burns Brightest
by Sean Gaffney
Summary: A few years after the anime. Might be considered sad.


The Light That Burns Brightest  
  
by Sean Gaffney  
  
Kodomo No Omocha (C) 1999 Miho Obana/Ribon Comics. All rights reserved.  
  
  
  
Akito sprang to his feet at the sight of the doctor. His face was still the expressionless mask he'd had since childhood. No matter how hard she tried, his wife hadn't been able to get rid of it entirely. But those who knew him well could see how much he was suffering. His eyes, eyes that normally showed a laconic humour at the vagaries of the world, were deep and haunted, and his cheekbones looked thinner.  
  
"Doctor?" he asked quietly.  
  
The doctor shook his head. "A few hours at most. I'm sorry, Hayama- san. We've tried to do all we can. I cannot apologise enough. Your wife is simply... wasting away. All I can do is make her comfortable."  
  
Akito clenched his fists, closing his eyes briefly. "And our child?"  
  
"Ah, there I do have good news." Akito's eyes burst open again in hope, and he walked over to clasp the doctor's hand. "She's all right?"  
  
The doctor held up a hand. "I don't want to make any rash promises. Not again. But the worst of it seems to be over, and your daughter is stabilising. With special care, and extra hospital time, she should be fine."  
  
Akito relaxed a bit. Their child was safe. Losing his wife still tore his heart open, but losing both of them... he doubted he could bear it. "Thank you, doctor."  
  
The doctor smiled weakly. "I'm sorry we couldn't save both of them, Hayama-san."  
  
Another nod. Others might have thought that Akito was being cold, or cruel, but the doctor knew his emotions well by know. Akito was internalising his suffering, waiting until he was alone before reacting.  
  
"You wife wants to speak with you," he said after a minute or two.  
  
"Of course," Akito nodded. "Can I... can we be alone for a moment?"  
  
"Naturally. Take as long as you like," the doctor added, before leaving Akito at the door to his wife's room.  
  
Akito stood by the door for a moment, trying to work up the courage to walk into the room. To see her one last time, before... before she died.  
  
Walking in, he felt his heart twinge again. She lay there on the bed, looking for all the world like a limp rag doll. Her weight was down to seventy pounds, and you could see every vein sticking out of her skin. It was horrifying.  
  
They still weren't sure why this was happening. After all these months, no one had an answer. All they knew was that with the pregnancy, Sana was getting weaker and weaker, and that none of the treatments they tried seemed to have any effect. After two months, she'd have to give up acting, telling the press she was going on a sabbatical. She'd been able to hide it then, with makeup and her naturally cheery disposition. But now... now there wasn't anymore hiding.  
  
In a weak moment, when she had been sobbing for a long time, she told Hayama that this must be some sort of punishment. For years she had been an energetic, hyperactive child. Her verve and vigour were part of what drew Akito out of his shell and caused him to fall in love with her.  
  
"But Akito," she had said, "what if we only get a certain amount of life in this world? You only get so much, and you have to use it up a little bit at a time. Akito, what if I've been so stupid..."  
  
He'd held her tightly then, whispering into her ear. "Idiot. This isn't a punishment from anyone. Why would God want to punish you? You've done so much... helped so many people."  
  
She smiled through her tears then, a sight he never got tired of. "You were the most important one, Akito. If I were given the choice to go back and change things, I wouldn't. I don't even think I *could*. Seeing you suffer..."  
  
They had made love that night, for what turned out to be the last time. It was slow and sweet, an expression of their private selves they only showed to each other.  
  
The next day she had collapsed, and they'd checked her into the hospital.  
  
He started, realising that while he was in his reverie, she had woken up and was smiling at him. Her smile was the one thing that hadn't changed, that no illness could take away. It spoke of a wry humour, of someone who laughs so much to stop herself from crying.  
  
Akito stumbled into the room, closing the door behind him. "Sana..." he murmured.  
  
She tried to reach out to him, but couldn't lift her arm. Instead, he went to the bed, moving next to her, taking her in his arms once more.  
  
"They said our daughter would be all right, Akito. Isn't that wonderful? I was so afraid... so afraid it'd be for nothing."  
  
Akito wanted to say something, any one of a thousand arguments that he'd had, vehemently denying what she'd said. But all he did was hold her tighter, clutching her head to his chest.  
  
"They also say I don't have too long left. I'm surprised they told me, you'd think they'd be ready to lie to me to make me happy..."  
  
Akito frowned. "They respect you too much to do that to you."  
  
Sana managed to get her hand around his, and gripped it as tightly as she could. "Akito, promise me something. I think you know what I'm going to ask, but I have to hear you say it."  
  
Akito did know what she was about to ask, but kept his silence.  
  
"Don't let what happened to you happen to our daughter. Promise me she'll grow up in a loving, happy family. Even if you have to - "  
  
"No." They'd had this argument before.  
  
Sana went on as if he hadn't spoken. " - to remarry, I don't care, as long as our child is happy. Happier than we were. With a childhood, a real childhood. No Kowamari, or anything like that. Just playing with kids, and learning at school, and making friends. And when she grows up, she can do whatever she wants. Anything at all. Promise me that, Akito."  
  
"I promise." What else could he say? He'd sooner take his own life than allow their daughter to suffer the way they had.  
  
They held each other in silence for a few more minutes. Then Sana spoke once more.  
  
"Akito, do you remember when I said that I thought this was God's way of taking my life, that I'd used it all up?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I've been thinking some more. I don't think it was my energy, or my vitality. I think it was my happiness. There was simply no way that I could ever be happier than I was with you. And maybe that happiness is too dangerous. Maybe it can damage you, or something. Maybe that's what happened to me. I was just too happy."  
  
"Idiot," he said, his voice rough.  
  
"I meant what I said then, you know. I wouldn't change anything. Nothing at all. I've loved every second that I've been with you, even when you were driving me crazy. That's my life, and it made me happy. And even if the happiness is killing me, I don't care. I'm still happy."  
  
Akito opened his mouth, then stopped. She was happy. He wouldn't take that away from her.  
  
Another hour passed, with them holding each other. Sana coughed once or twice, but that was all.  
  
"Akito?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I know you have trouble saying things. Words aren't really your thing, huh? But I've always known how you felt, so it's OK. But I want to say it for both of us, one last time."  
  
She paused.  
  
"I love you. Forever."  
  
He said nothing. As she said, he didn't have to.  
  
Another half-hour later, she stopped breathing.  
  
He couldn't stop them then. Couldn't stop the tears. Akito clutched her body and he cried, cried like a broken man. He didn't think he'd ever be able to stop crying.  
  
But eventually, he did. And he got up, and laid her back on the bed, and crossed her hands, and closed her eyes.  
  
He moved to the door, and looked back. "Sana, I..."  
  
She was right. Words weren't how he dealt with the world. He had no idea to say how much she'd meant to him. But then it occurred to him. The words that only she would understand.  
  
"I never hated you."  
  
END 


End file.
